Lull
by Squid
Summary: [Isuya] April 18th is Isumi's birthday. This was written for him.


When Isumi said "Le Ping, how you've grown!", what he really meant was, 

_Waya, how you've grown. It's been some time since we've last met, and I've missed you. _

Waya, why are you looking at me like I'm a stranger?

But he held his tongue then, and said nothing. 

Gradually, it is as if their time apart had never been. The awkward silences between them shorten and disappear, reborn as comfortable lulls, pauses in conversation where nothing needed to be spoken for them to tell each other what they wanted to say. 

Waya doesn't hesitate anymore before he touches Isumi, casually, on the arm or the shoulder, an easy possession that tells everyone who sees this, 

_I know him. He's my friend._

Isumi tries not to react too much to these touches, to think about how they gag the silence inside him, the same way Go does. 

He already knew, from the first time he gripped the Go stones in his fist 

(he remembers they were black) 

and let them slide through his fingers. Even then he knew that he /had/ to learn how to play, only dimly aware of but already seduced by the beauty of the game.

Waya is a bit like that, but so *alive* it takes his breath away. Looking at him, Isumi wonders sometimes how it feels to be so bright, to be so absolute.

"Isumi, Isumi." Someone's shaking him.

He opens his eyes, groggily, and looks at Waya, who's crouching above him. It's almost too dark to see. 

"It's late. Don't you have to go home? Nase's going too; you can take the subway with her."

Isumi closes his eyes, and forces himself to stay awake long enough to decide he's not going home tonight. He manages to tell Waya before he falls back asleep, not even hearing the noise the others make when they leave, or Waya's admonition for them to be quiet.

When he wakes up, night has fallen. There are lumps pressing into his back, and he sits up, wondering where everyone else is before he remembers.

"You're awake?"

"Hmm." He says, mouth cottony from sleeping. "What time is it?"

Waya hands him a glass of water, and sits down opposite him, carelessly pushing stacks of magazines and books aside. 

"Around ten. I was wondering whether you were going to sleep through the night."

Isumi sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. His body aches, and when he reaches behind him, a few Go stones are stuck to his t-shirt.

He passes them to Waya, who drops them into a Go-ke.

"Sorry; I must have slept on them."

"It's okay....Isumi?"

"Yes?" 

"How long have we been friends?"

Isumi thinks about this. Should he count the time where he intentionally avoided all of them because he couldn't even face himself? Or the time when he went to China and stayed there for *months* without telling Waya, even though they were supposed to be so close?

He's curious about what Waya thinks. Did he think of it as a betrayal, or does he understand why Isumi couldn't bear to even look at him for so long? 

"A long time. Why?" He answers, finally, with forced lightness.

He is wholly unprepared when Waya reaches over and kisses him on the lips, lightning-quick and fierce, over before his eyes have widened fully in shock. 

"That's why." Waya looks at him, expression defiant, but his eyes are scared. "I'm sorry."

"Why did you do that for?" Isumi says, after finding his voice. 

_I was expecting something else. For you to ask why I left, for your questions. _

Oh Waya, I never wanted a confession from you.

Waya swallows, and Isumi watches his Adam's apple bob up and down. 

"I can't tell you that! I...I don't know. Oh, forget it! Forget this happened, okay, Isumi?" 

His eyes are pleading, and Isumi decides to agree, because that's how he is. He doesn't think he's brave enough for this. How can he, Isumi, find the courage to pursue this if even Waya's afraid?

"No." And the answer surprises Isumi enough for him to put his hand over his mouth.

Waya drops his head, and doesn't look at him. "So it's over, then." His voice is low. "My fault, I'm sorry." 

The awkward silence Isumi thought had been banished forever returns, stretching between them, and he stares blindly at Waya's hair, trying to think of something to say that would make it right again.

_Why didn't I say yes? What am I doing? Do I want this?_

Yes. Yes. 

Yes.

Isumi gets on his knees, leaning forwards. 

"Waya." He says. "Waya, look at me. Please."

"What *is* it, Isumi-" Waya looks up at him, voice gruff and impatient with the last vestiges of control.

Isumi kisses him this time, everything it wasn't when Waya did. Slow enough for him to watch at least three different emotions flicker across Waya's face, gentle enough for him to have to grip his pants at his knees so he doesn't tilt and lose his balance. 

And while his lips are pressing against Waya's, their breaths mingling, Isumi thinks,

_He *has* grown up. We both have._

When he pulls back, Waya looks at him like he doesn't believe it just happened. His eyes are soft, and the sadness hasn't entirely gone away.

"Now I'm sorry too." Isumi says, quietly.


End file.
